Serendipity
by Lady Celebrian
Summary: George now believes in fate.
1. Looking Back

Until recently, I had never really believed in fate or love at first sight. I'd experienced a number of coincidences in my life, but the thought never crossed my mind that any of them actually meant something, that is, until I met her. There is no doubt in my mind that our first meeting - as cliché as this sounds - was meant to be. I was meant to find her that night. I was meant to save her. That's just how "Lady Fate" dealt the cards, and I would definitely like to thank her for doing so.  
  
The events of that fateful night will be forever etched in to the folds of my brain. My twin brother and I awoke late that night to carry out some nocturnal mischief. We had nicked a crate of flesh-eating slugs from Hagrid, the groundskeeper of our school, and couldn't resist some harmless joking. Besides, we had a big History of Magic midterm exam the next morning. If the test papers were unexpectedly devoured by a few slimy gastropods, it might help to delay things for a bit while we did some last minute studying.  
  
"Ouch! You stepped on my foot you stupid arse!" shouted my brother Fred as we clumsily stumbled out of our dormitory in to the still quietness of the Gryffindor common room. The only source of light came from the rapidly dying fire at the far end of the room, which cast eerie moving shadows across the dimly lit space that seemed to grow and expand as the flames themselves shrank into nothingness.  
  
I cast a hurried glance towards the dying embers, and it was then that I saw her for the first time, a young girl knelt beside the fireplace staring intently at the tiny, dancing flames. Her head rested on the hearth, and the moving shadows played daintily across her face. I watched as she shut her eyes tightly and then slowly opened them again. For one brief moment, our eyes met and I could see a deep sadness smoldering inside her intense, almond-shaped eyes. I could have stared at those eyes forever, but I was rudely brought back to reality by a slap to the back of my head.  
  
"Come on! We don't have much time!" Fred whispered harshly.  
  
"Don't you see her?" I exclaimed pointing towards the hearth.  
  
"See who? I think you've gone bonkers. There's no one there."  
  
"She's right there! Look!" I pointed frantically towards the fireplace where I had last seen the girl, but she was gone. "I swear - she was right there next to the fireplace. You didn't see her?"  
  
"Umm.no. Maybe you should get your head checked. I don't think seeing imaginary Cinderellas is healthy."  
  
"Piss off!"  
  
"Come on! Let's go." whined Fred. I followed him out of the common room and into the hallway, but my mind stayed behind with the sad girl kneeling next to the hearth. It couldn't have been a ghost. I was sure I knew of all the ghosts in the castle, and new ones didn't appear too often. And I was sure she was a solid person. She didn't look the least bit translucent. And I couldn't have imagined her. I just couldn't have. There was no way my subconscious could ever create someone as beautiful and sad as she.  
  
We continued to walk down the corridor with Fred noisily dragging the wooden crate of flesh-eating slugs behind him.  
  
"Hey! We should split up. We could cover more ground." He said.  
  
"Good idea." I said and stuffed my pockets full of slugs before departing. (Just so you know, a pocketful of slugs does not feel pleasant at all.)  
  
When I had disposed of all the slugs, (I put a few in Filch's office and I put the rest in Snape's classroom. That should be a lovely surprise for them tomorrow morning.) I began to wander aimlessly about the castle. I couldn't stop thinking about that girl. (I know it's not the first time a sixteen year old boy has said that, but this is different. Trust me.)  
  
Suddenly, I heard a noise. It was just barely audible, but unmistakable nonetheless. It was the sound of tiny footsteps, the footsteps of a cat. I knew that if I had heard Mrs. Norris, then Filch wouldn't be far behind. I had to hide, so I ducked into the first unlocked door I saw: the second floor girl's lavatory.  
  
Once inside, I immediately noticed that something was amiss. Call it intuition if you like, but the atmosphere just didn't feel right.  
  
It was then that I saw her lying there like a beautiful flower plucked and wilting on the cold, stone floor. Still clutched in her delicate hand was the razor blade, wretched and imbrued. My imaginary Cinderella was bleeding to death before my eyes.  
  
Just then, I heard a muffled moan. She wasn't dead yet, and I wasn't going to let her leave me again. I searched frantically for something to stop her bleeding, but found nothing of any use. So, I removed my shirt to use as a makeshift bandage and then, gently lifted her into my arms. As I did this, I heard her whimper softly. Her hand went limp, and the razor fell from her fingertips noiselessly to the floor.  
  
"Hang on. Please don't die." I whispered softly. I got no response. The girl was still unconscious and barely breathing. I was starting to think that I might lose her after all. No, I told myself. I couldn't let that happen.  
  
As quickly as I could, I made my way down the corridor and up the stairway to the hospital wing.  
  
"Hey! Where're you off to in such a hurry?" asked Fred as I passed him in the hallway.  
  
"It's her! My imaginary Cinderella."  
  
"What the hell happened to her?" He asked staring at the limp, bloodstained body in my arms.  
  
"I - I don't know. I just found her like this."  
  
"It looks pretty bad." He said still surveying the lump in my arms in disbelief. "We need to get her to the hospital wing right now. Madam Pomfrey will know what to do."  
  
"Yes. We need to hurry." My voice broke a little as I said this. Her breathing was getting slower still and she was beginning to feel cold.  
  
Fred saw my distress and clapped a comforting hand on my shoulder.  
  
"Don't worry, George. She'll be alright." I could tell in his voice that he was unsure of the accuracy of his words. 


	2. My Princess Wakes

What happened next is somewhat of a blur. All I can clearly recall is Madam Pomfrey rushing about like a frazzled powder puff and muffled sounds and faint movements coming from the bed where my fairytale princess lay. It would be three days before she opened her alluring eyes again.

In the pale light of morning, I saw the figure lying on the bed stir. Her eyes moved beneath her eyelids struggling into wakefulness. In another moment, they blinked open and began to survey their surroundings. She just stared. She looked frightened.

"Hello," I blurted out awkwardly. Still, she just lay there staring confusedly at the faded burgundy drapes hanging from the window across the room. "I'm George. George Weasley. It's lucky I found you when I did or you'd have been done for. I guess setting flesh-eating slugs about the school at night paid off this time," I continued trying to get the girl to say something - anything.

"You found me?" I heard her ask.

"Yes. My brother Fred and I decided to split up so we could cover more ground. Well, I happened to run into Mrs. Norris in my travels, so I ducked into the first available door which happened to be the girl's lavatory." It was then that I realized that I had been holding her hand all this time. My face turned every shade of red imaginable as I tried to discreetly let go of it.

"Why couldn't you have just let me be? Maybe I didn't want to be found." The poor girl sounded on the verge of tears. I suddenly realized what I had interrupted three nights ago. Why hadn't I seen it before? This stunning, amazing girl, the one who filled my every thought since the moment I'd laid eyes on her, had tried to kill herself. What had happened to her that made her want to end her life so violently?

"You don't want to go and do that, love. You've got too much ahead of you. And besides, the world would be a much sadder place without a beautiful girl like you in it," I said while taking her hand in mine once more.

"It's what I left behind and not what's ahead of me that I'd like to forget."

"I'm sure it can't be that bad," I reasoned.

"Well, don't be so sure."

"Alright. I won't ask anymore questions if you answer just one more." There was something that I had been dying to know since the moment I'd first seen her.

"What is it?"

"What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Sylvia Metrea," she answered.

"Well, Sylvia, I think you're very pretty, and I can't imagine why you would want to go and kill yourself." (What was that? This girl had just gone through a very traumatic experience, and I'm sitting here hitting on her. What is wrong with me? Okay. I'm an idiot.)

"It's complicated," she replied.

"Okay," was all I said.

I stayed with her for the rest of the day. Neither of us spoke, but we seemed to have an understanding that was beyond words. Her eyes alone spoke volumes of melancholy verses. There was a definite sadness harbored inside of their intense, violet grace. (Yes. She really had violet eyes! Until then, I had never seen a single person with eyes like hers.)

When night came, Madam Pomfrey proceeded to chase me away. "The girl needs her rest. You can see her tomorrow in school," she said.

Before leaving, I plucked up the courage to kiss her – just on the forehead. I didn't quite have the nerve to do the real thing. Besides, I didn't want to overstep my boundaries. I'd just met her, after all. She did smile a little when I did it. It was great relief to see her countenance brighten, and for a moment, she didn't seem so sad.


	3. The Date is Set

The next day while walking to lunch, I felt her brush past me in the hallway amidst whispers of "slut" and "incest whore". Those that didn't say anything cast looks of disgust towards her. There were a few who expressed their sympathy, but most just stared with cold eyes.

"Hey, Fred." I nudged my brother who was standing next to me. "What are they saying about Sylvia?"

"You haven't heard? She was - well - you see - her father - he did a lot of - very bad things to her - just awful. That's why she tried to kill herself that night."

"Oh, God. I had no idea." I didn't know what else to say. I was in shock.

"Yeah. She had to go through that for years, poor thing. It's terrible. No one should have to live in fear like that."

"No. No one."

I glanced at her sitting there - alone - at one of the long, wooden tables in the Great Hall, and I just got this really bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wanted to do something - anything to make her forget about her troubled past. She shouldn't have to be alone with her memories forever.

"You like her, don't you?" Fred asked.

"What makes you say that?" I asked maybe a little too defensively.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's because you didn't leave her side for three straight days, and when you look at her, like you are just now, it's more than obvious that you want to take her into your arms and hold her."

"Very Harlequinn romance novel-ish, little brother."

"Well, you know it's true."

"Yes." I said.

I did want to. She was crying now. I could see the tears sliding down her delicate cheeks. I wanted to hold her. I wanted to dry her tears and make her smile again like she had the night before.

"Then go over there and do it, or I'll be forced to lapse into romance novel dialogue until you do."

"Alright. Wish me luck."

"You don't need any. Just go." He said ushering me in Sylvia's direction.

When I reached my destination, I sat down next to her, and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Cheer up, love. It's alright." I said.

Sylvia picked her head up, which was resting in her hands, and looked at me. She looked right into my eyes. At that moment, I wanted to cry with her. Her face was stained with disconsolate tears of self-pity, and her eyes were red from crying. That feeling in my stomach I had felt earlier was back and much stronger.

"How is it alright?" she said half-sobbing. "Tell me. How? You've heard what they're saying about me, I'm a slut - an incest whore. That's what they're calling me. How can you say everything's alright?" With that, she collapsed into my arms burying her face in my shoulder.

I held her. I held her in my arms and told her it was going to be okay. I told her that I knew she wasn't a whore, that she was a beautiful, special girl. I did all I could to get her to stop crying.

"Please don't cry. It's going to be okay. I know things seem like they can't get any worse, but, if your right, and they can't, they can only get better right?"

She picked her head up and looked at me again. This time, she placed her hand on my cheek before she spoke.

"They will?" she asked hesitantly.

"They will." I assured her.

She let out a long sigh that turned into a sob as she let her head fall back onto my chest.

"I really believe you, so, please don't lie to me just to make me feel better." She said.

"I wouldn't lie to you, Sylvia."

"Good. I'm tired of being lied to." She replied.

By the time lunch was over, she had managed to compose herself. I walked with her until we reached the staircase. Before we parted ways, I kissed her, this time of the cheek. She smiled again, broader than before, and continued on her way.

"I think that went very well," said a voice from behind me. "The innocent little peck on the cheek was a nice touch."

"'Lo, Fred." I said turning to greet my brother.

"So, are you going to see her tonight?" he asked anxiously.

"What? What gave you that idea?" (Who does he think he is prying into my personal life like that?)

"C'mon! It would be perfect."

"But what if she doesn't want to? I'll feel like an idiot. Don't you think it's a little too soon?"

"There's no time like the present, dear brother. Now, listen. You're going to write her a note saying you want to meet her on the third floor staircase at 10 o'clock tonight. Don't say anything more. You'll be more mysterious."

"Mysterious?"

"Yes. Mysterious. Now, when she shows up."

"What makes you so sure she will show up?"

"Trust me. When Sylvia shows up, take her outside to the old oak tree near the west wing of the castle. Bring a blanket. It'll be cold, and you two will be able to get all warm and cuddly."

"You've really thought this through, haven't you?"

"Yes. I have. Now, tonight, Venus is closer to the earth than it's been in a thousand years. It'll be just perfect. You two snuggle bunnies will be able to cozy up and look at the stars together - very romantic."

"I don't believe I've ever heard you say snuggle bunnies. You're starting to worry me."

"Shut up! I'm only trying to help you out. So, are you going to do it?"

"Although, I am quite disturbed by your choice of wording, you do have a good plan."

"So, you're gonna do it, then?"

"Yes."

"Awesome! Here. Give her this when you see her in the hallway." Fred produced a folded piece of paper from his pocket, and placed it in my hand. I opened it.

"It's blank." I said.

"Wait." He replied peering over my shoulder to look at the paper.

Slowly, words began to appear across the torn piece of parchment: "Meet me on the third floor staircase at 10:00."

"Very cool." I said.

"Thank you. I know - I'm a genius." He replied. "Now, hurry up and find her."

"Off I go then. Hey! Wait. Fred?"

"Yeah?"

"Why did you do all this for me?"

"Because you're my brother, and besides, you're too stupid to think of these things yourself."

"Well, thanks."

"Any time. Now, go on!"

"Okay. Okay. I'm going."


	4. Beauty Marks

I arrived at the staircase half an hour early and nervous as hell. I stood at the foot of the stairs, blanket under arm, tapping my fingers nervously on the banister. What if she didn't show up?

I soon realized that I shouldn't have been so nervous. Sylvia showed up promptly at ten. If possible, she seemed more nervous than I was. She looked incredible, though. Her long, ebony hair was pulled back to show off the delicate curve of her neck. The way the light hit it reminded me of something from a James Joyce novel that I once read. She was dressed very modestly. In fact, it looked as if she had gone to great pains to cover herself up, but I could tell that underneath those clothes, she had the most gorgeous body.

"Hi." She said.

"Hi." I replied. "Come with me."

I led her outside to the oak tree. Fred was right. The night was perfect. The air was tinged with the sweet scent of night-blooming jasmine, and the stars shone with unrivaled intensity. The scenery could have come out of another novel, maybe even one by James Joyce.

"Why did you bring me here?" she asked.

"To look at the stars. They say Venus is closer than it's been in a thousand years or something. I thought you'd like to see."

"The sky does look beautiful tonight." She replied while sitting down beside me.

"Yes. I don't think I've seen anything more beautiful." I replied gazing into her eyes.

We talked all night. We tried to name all of the constellations and even made up some of our own. Sylvia smiled more than I had ever seen her smile before. She had a lovely smile, and when she was really happy, she'd do this cute thing where she'd bite her bottom lip. She also had the most adorable little pixy laugh I'd ever heard; it was so soft and genuine, and when she did it, her eyes laughed with her. God, I was in love with her already…

The whole night, I had been working up the courage to do something I had wanted to do since the moment I'd first seen her that night by the fireplace, but could I do it? My heart seemed to grow wings and fly up into my throat. Why was this so hard?

"I-I'd really like to kiss you now, Sylvia." I managed to stammer somewhat coherently.

She didn't say anything. Okay. This is bad. What if I scared her? What if it was too soon? What if she didn't like me like I liked her? Well, there's only one way to find out, isn't there? I leaned in and kissed her, but afterwards, she quickly pulled away. What was I going to do? Well, I might as well get on with it.

"Y-you know, I really like you, S-Sylvia, and umm...well, I was just wondering - maybe - I mean - that is, if you want to - maybe you could be my girlfr-."

"Don't." She interjected covering my mouth before I could finish my sentence. "Please. Just don't. You wouldn't want someone like me to be your girlfriend."

"Why not? You're a wonderful girl, Sylvia. Any guy should count himself lucky to have you."

"Just look at me! I'm ugly!" She showed me the collection of scars on her arms and lifted her shirt slightly, revealing still more pale white scars on her stomach and back. "They make me ugly." She said her voice trembling and eyes brimming with tears.

"No. No they don't. You're beautiful, and no mark - no matter how deep - can change that. If anything, they make you even more gorgeous.

"How?"

"You've been through a lot - more than you should have had to endure, but you're still here. You've survived, Sylvia, and those scars show that. They don't make you ugly at all. They show that you're a strong person. If you didn't have the strength to fight for so long, you probably wouldn't be alive right now.

When I first saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. Those scars don't make me feel any differently. You're still beautiful, and you always will be."

"That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me. I really don't deserve you."

"You're right. You deserve better than me, but I hope you wouldn't mind settling for a little less than you deserve because." I paused a moment. Could I really say it? "I-I think I'm in love with you, Sylvia."

I waited for her response. It seemed like forever before she finally spoke.

"I really like you too. I think I might even love you, but - it's just - well - I'm afraid."

"I can totally understand if you're afraid. You've been hurt a lot, and you don't want to get hurt again, but I would never want to hurt you, Sylvia. You can trust me on that."

"I can?"

"You know I wouldn't lie to you." I said cupping her face in my hands. I kissed her again. It was a deep but gentle kiss. When I pulled away, she smiled and bit her bottom lip.

We made love that night beneath the old oak tree on the castle grounds. Gazing down at her lying there, naked, on the soft spring grass, her body seemed to absorb and reflect the pale moonlight and glow with renewed radiance.

I kissed her scars - on her arms and legs, her back, and her stomach. They weren't ugly to me. She could never be ugly to me. She was something indescribeable.

"You don't think they're ugly?" she asked.

"Not at all, sweet. They make you who you are." I replied.

"And who am I?"

I stopped nibbling the smooth skin of her neck and looked directly into her eyes.

"You are the most amazing girl I've ever met, and I love you."

"I-I love you too, George."

Words cannot describe the mix of emotions one feels when someone says that to you, and you know they mean it with all their heart and soul. It's just the most wonderful feeling in the world.

For a long time after that, we both just lay there breathing in the night air, the scent of jasmine replaced with the even sweeter scent of midnight sweat. We finally walked back to the castle just as the sun was coming up on the horizon. She paused for a moment to gaze at its glowing splendor.

"I wish I could take a picture of this moment and keep it forever." She said.

"You can." I replied. "Here. Take your hands and put them like this." I took the thumb and index finger of both her hands and formed them into a rectangle. "Now, look through your lens." I said moving her hands and placing the rectangle in front of her face. "Do you have the picture?"

"Yes." She giggled.

"Okay. Now, take it and put it in the little photo album in your head, and you'll always have it."

"Alright. Now, I'll never forget this." She replied turning to face me.

"I won't either."

And that was it. In the course of one week, it seemed like my wonderful world got a whole lot more wonderful. Although I used to take it for granted, I now believe with all my heart and soul that some things are just meant to happen, and this was definitely one of them.


End file.
